Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
40
MILA
The renovation of the Eagles' Roost after the bombing has come out really nice. After the Eagles bought the whole building, they knocked out several walls, added pool tables, more seating, expanded the kitchen, rebuilt the bar from the ground up—Scrapper has told me all about it, since he was in charge of the custom job there together with his dad and brothers—and yet it's undeniably still the old Roost. There are still a couple of meeting rooms upstairs, and the stage with the stripper poles and the lowered audience area are still here. They added dancing cages on the side too, though. Progress, I guess.
The one trip Meghan and I took down here back in the before days, we eyed all the dangerous bikers and talked about the poor girls who got stuck with those kinds of monsters. Dirty, filthy, sexy, dream-about-at-night monsters.
Now look at me.
I'm not just enjoying three of those dirty, filthy, sexy, dream-about-at-night monsters in bed. I'm getting married to them.
Well, in biker terms anyway. The Screaming Eagles have a tradition of a claiming ceremony when someone takes someone as their old lady, both to make it official and to make sure everyone in the club knows to keep their hands off. From what Eagle-eye told me, it prevents awkward situations. Or at least reduces them.
I'm behind the curtain on the stage. No one's going to be on the stripper poles today.
Well, there's a party afterwards, so maybe, but at least not yet.
Meghan's here too, squeezing my hand tight. She's my bridesmaid or whatever you want to call it. I decided I wanted a little support up here.
“You're going to be fine. You look beautiful.”
Virgin white isn't really much of a thing in biker weddings, I've learned, at least not here, but I'm wearing a dress at least, a flowy number that's silky black with shimmering dark blue pleats if I shake it a little. It leaves my shoulders bare, and gives me a little more cleavage than most wedding dresses do, but it makes me feel sexy. And when I've got three big men to keep happy, I'll play on everything I've got.
I mean, I could come out there in a potato sack and Crocs on my feet and they'd still declare me their old lady before they drag me upstairs and peel it all off me, but I like making them happy. Just like they do the same for me.
Meghan gives me a little nudge. “It's time.”
The music playing is a thumping rock song that'd probably be better suited for a stripper number than a wedding, but that's okay. It fits the vibe. I step out from behind the curtain, clutching Meghan's hand like I'm going to tear it off.
Reaper, Mack and Scrapper are there waiting for me, and I've never seen their eyes look so freaking huge.
“Holy shit,” Scrapper says, and I don't think he even realizes he said it out loud.
Mack leans close to Eagle-eye. “We better make this quick. Unless you want things to get dirty right here on stage.”
They look good too. They've got leather cuts on, oiled and shiny, over crisp white button down shirts, new jeans and polished motorcycle boots. Mack's trimmed his beard smooth and Reaper's sides are freshly shaved. Scrapper whispered to me earlier that he'd put on his most festive nipple rings, and while I have absolutely no idea what that's supposed to mean, I'm sure I'll find out afterwards. They're still bikers, but dressed up for the occasion. That's fine. They're what I want.
Gathered around the tables in the audience section below the stage are most of the club, bikers, old ladies and some of the older kids, along with a few especially invited guests. I was actually a little surprised that Meghan’s roommates Carrie and Liz decided to show, but I guess they were curious enough to override their worry about being in a biker bar. Danny's here too, of course. He and Mack have had some good talks, but I have no idea what his plans are yet. He’s still staying in the clubhouse, and after six years in prison, he's allowed some time to figure it out. Next to him is Ella, who had to promise to leave work outside the bar if she was going to come. I sent invitations to Mom and Dad, letting them know Danny would be here, and I got no reply. I’ll leave the door open for the future, but I’m not giving up what I have to try and chase their approval.
Only so much I can do about that, unfortunately.
Eagle-eye clears his throat and the music quiets. “Ladies and… the rest of you.” He waves his hand dismissively. “We're here today, because—once again—some clever lady has decided that she wants to spend the rest of her days with three of our boys. One is bad enough if you ask me, but three? Good luck, girl. You’re going to need it.”